Isn't It Obvious?
by imsortofawriter
Summary: An original storyline in which an OC named Eli dies under possibly mysterious circumstances. CBI takes over the investigation of what had originally been thought to be a suicide. Secrets are uncovered and angst ensues. Using his unique skills, Jane solves the case & helps characters come to terms & heal. [Hoping to write mystery aspect as well]. TW: Self harm, suicide


**_"Isn't It Obvious?"_**

 _First thing I've ever published. A work in progress with some OCs & the Mentalist characters. [obviously I don't own the mentalist or any of its characters. all rights go to their proper owners. Characters Juliet Cassavas and Eli Ruiz belong to me.]  
_ _I plan on adding more chapters from different perspectives (and more angst. cause what is fanfiction for). I also hope to actually write and solve the mystery aspect of this story, but I'm not 100% sure yet._ _I greatly appreciate any input, comments, or guidance. **TRIGGER WARNING: SELF HARM, BRIEF MENTION OF ABUSE, SUICIDE**_

 _[[Third person]]_

"So where were you Tuesday between 12 and 1 am?" Kimball Cho directed his question at the teenager seated across the table.  
Flustered and timidly indignant, the youth quickly replied.  
"Hold on a second. No.  
You can't possibly be asking if I killed Eli.  
You can't.  
I wouldn't. No way."  
"We have to ask. And you haven't answered the question," Cho returned coolly.  
"I was studying. I have a calculus test coming up."  
"Did Eli have any enemies?"...

/````````````````````````/

"Oh come on, Lisbon. We both know she didn't do anything."  
"Do we, Jane? We have to take into account that she was the last person to see Eli alive." Patience withering, Agent Teresa Lisbon turned to her arrogant consultant.  
"Well it's obvious," Jane turned to explain. "She loved him. She'd never have hurt him. She's definitely hiding something, but she's not your murderer."  
He marched into the meeting room where Cho sat with the victim's classmate, Juliet Cassavas.

CBI had been called to the scene of what local police had declared to be a suicide. But after Jane had finished flouncing around the crime scene, he'd introduced that ever-familiar kernel of doubt surrounding the circumstances & CBI took the case.  
The victim, Eli Ruiz, was a senior at Bella Vista high school and, apparently, a decently-liked & respected member of the student body. He wasn't popular, but he wasn't entirely unknown. What became clear was that, although he seemed beloved, he had very few close friends. And even fewer people that had understood the precarious nature of his personal life. Not even his teachers or academic advisor had been aware that Ruiz was struggling. It appeared that the individual with the greatest understanding was his companion, Juliet. Another member of Eli's senior class, Juliet had been the last person to communicate with him.  
So they'd brought Juliet in to piece together the vague and scattered puzzle that was Eli's life.

"Hello Juliet. My name is Patrick," Jane extended his hand.  
"I was wondering if you and Eli were lovers."  
"Excuse you!? What kind of question is that? Eli was my best friend & confidant.  
He was my hero." She sat back in her chair, arms crossed, and tears glittering in her eyes.  
"Why so indignant? You were close and you clearly loved him."  
"Like a brother. I did love Eli. But not romantically."  
Jane motioned for her to go on, so Juliet continued. "Look man, Eli went through a lot. Even before his mom died 6 months ago, life was rough. Things happened, his sister was abusive and cruel and life went downhill really fast. He was sort of traumatized. I respected his space. He deserved a better life than the one he got. But he was always so kind. Despite it all. He never stopped loving or giving. He was pure and beautiful. He was my hero."  
"What happened when life went downhill, Juliet?"  
Jane took in everything. Every twitch, every tap, every breath, every tremor, every movement. Everything you do when you talk becomes a part of the story you tell. Every tap of your toe an indication. Every flick of your eyes an important detail. All nonverbal cues helping to tell what we sometimes can't, or won't, put into words.  
He repeated the question after she maintained a protective silence, "Juliet. What happened when life went downhill?"  
After a little bit, she answered. "He tried before you know...  
He'd called me. But I was... I was busy," her voice quivered as the words began to spill out. "He needed me that night, but I wasn't there. So he'd taken too many pills.  
But he survived.  
That was the angriest I'd ever seen him."  
"At himself?" Jane interrupted softly.  
"Yeah.  
For like a week, he was so quiet, so dead. I thought he'd never smile again. But over time, he seemed to kind of build that part of himself up again.  
And then his mom died.  
And he didn't have anywhere. So he moved in with us. Living in the guest house."  
Lisbon, who had (until now) been observing quietly, asked, "You just let him move in?"  
"It was the least I could do, he's given so much and had so much taken. We've been friends since 6th grade and our parents had been friends for a while."  
Jane turned as if realizing something, "You called him your hero. Said he's given so much. You clearly care about him. So then why did you lie about what you were doing Tuesday night?"  
Suddenly defensive, Juliet sat upright in her chair. "I didn't lie."  
"But you did."  
"I told you. I was studying. That calculus test will make or break my GPA, okay?"  
Jane cocked his head to the side then shrugged. "Fair enough."

"Can I go now? I have things to do."

"You can go," Jane waved her off as though shooing a fly.

"JANE."

"I mean. When Agent Lisbon says you can go.

But seriously."

Frustrated, Lisbon turned to Juliet, "We may need to talk to you again, Miss Cassavas. However, you are a person of interest, so please stay in town."

And with that, Juliet Cassavas left the CBI.


End file.
